I hadn't been in touch with my family home for years, when suddenly I got a call from my younger brother...

#nana56b


Lines from the story

Up until middle school, I was the
picture-perfect “good kid.” I never defied
my parents, living exactly as they told me to.

But the moment I entered high school,
something snapped inside me. I started hurling
abuse at my mother, stopped going home, and
spent my days wandering the streets at night.

The instant I graduated high school, I fled my
family home—no, I abandoned it.

At first, I still gave them my address, but
after changing it several times,

before I knew it, all contact with my parents
had completely ceased.

The only one I'd given my phone number to was
my younger brother. After years of silence, he
contacted me

this past April, when he found out his
girlfriend was pregnant.

He said my mother had collapsed. My rebellious
feelings toward my parents were gone, but
honestly, going back now felt like a chore.



I hadn't imagined her condition was so serious.

Still, I decided to go because I wanted to
introduce her.

She had been saying for a while that she wanted
to meet my parents.

I found out later that my mother passed away the
next day, while we were driving on the highway.

My father, whom I hadn't seen in so long, had
become a very small figure.

In a weak voice, he said, “Long time no see.”

Mom's face looked like a different person from
back then, aged, yet she slept with a peaceful
expression.

No tears came. About a week after the funeral,
a cardboard box arrived for me from Dad.
Inside was a note in his rough handwriting
saying, “Mom's keepsakes,” along with a large
stack of letters,

and a single ring.

There must have been over a hundred letters,
all written by Mom to me. She'd apparently
started writing them around the time I left
home.

In her characteristic neat handwriting, they
were filled with constant worry for me and
apologies for her own inadequacies.

These letters were packed meticulously in
order, with a thoroughness uncharacteristic
of Dad.

The enclosed ring also came with a single
letter.

"This ring is a keepsake from my mother—your
grandmother.

I received it when I got married. When you
find someone special,

please give this ring to her. Build a happy
family like my parents and us did."



I handed her the ring and letter, then
silently entered the bedroom.

A while later, she came into the pitch-dark
room and sat down, her back pressed against
mine.

In the silence, I heard her quiet sobs.

The moment I felt that tremor through her back,
something tense inside me shattered with a
crack.

Tears spilled out. They wouldn't stop.

Mom, I'm sorry. And thank you.

I'll take one character from your name for our
daughter's name.

So I can give this child all the love I
couldn't give you.

And to pass on your kindness and strength to
her.